Little Hercules Sewin' Some Pants
by Imagodownwiththisship
Summary: Did you ever wonder how Hercules Mulligan ended up being a spy for the Revolution? AKA imagine little Hercules sitting in front of a sewing machine. Eventual Lafayette/Hercules.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: All characters belong to Lin-Manuel Miranda. Some of the facts in this fanfic are historically accurate, while others were made up for lack of information or interest. Again, thank you for reading my stories/reviewing! Also, does anyone know how to do line breaks? I just put a bunch of dots but if anyone could tell me how that would be great. Now, on with the story!**

Hercules' mother always told him that he was named after someone brave and strong. With her warm smile and caring soul, he was always eager to please her, and in this case, that meant living up to his namesake.

"Rawr! I am the mighty Hercules Mulligan! Nothing and no one can stop me!" He bellowed one day as he played with his siblings.

"Herc," his sister Sarah sighed. "You're not invincible. Just because the original Hercules was doesn't mean you are."

Though she was a year younger than himself, Sarah was wiser beyond her years, a trait she likely inherited from their mother.

"Oh." Hercules' face dropped. "Well, what did the original Hercules do? I bet I can be just as good as he was! Ma believes I will!"

Sarah giggled. "Unless you're a demigod with super strength you're never going to beat him."

Hercules processed his sister's words carefully. _Maybe I can't beat him through sheer strength, but Mother said that he was brave too. I can do that!_

Hercules gave a smug grin in return. "Maybe. But I can be just as brave as he was. You'll see."

And so they did. Hercules stomped on every insect and rodent that dared to come into the house, viciously hunted down the birds that preyed on his mother's vegetable garden, and also chased away the neighborhood bullies, despite the fact that he was only six years old. He was hailed a hero, but his reign was cut short by their family's move to the colonies.

"But why!" Hercules' brother Hugh whined when their parents told them the news.

"Well," their mother replied, always the diplomat, "your father and I have decided that there will be better business opportunities for your father over there than here."

Sarah scoffed at her. "Even so, we've built a life here in Ireland. There's no need to move now."

Hercules frowned. Secretly, he agreed with Sarah, and didn't want to travel to a foreign land for the sake of "business opportunities." However, he didn't want to upset his mother, and held his tongue, thinking that that was what the real Hercules would do.

"Sarah, Hugh," he tried to placate his siblings. "Don't complain. The colonies are far from Ireland, sure, but think of the adventure to get there! We'll be on a huge boat for weeks. And when we finally arrive, we'll have a brand new house too! You might even get your own room." Hercules added as an afterthought.

Sarah and Hugh looked sufficiently swayed, and stayed quiet, pondering Hercules' words.

His mother smiled broadly at him. Silent gratitude traveled between their eyes. "Hercules is right. It won't be the same, but isn't that the point? Think of the possibilities!"

With that in mind, the Mulligans began to prepare for their journey. They packed up their belongings, and several weeks later, headed to the docks, where they boarded a ship that would hopefully lead them to a better life.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The Mulligans had arrived in America. Hercules and his siblings quickly adapted to their new lifestyle as time passed, while Mr. Mulligan found a new job at an accounting firm.

A year later, when Sarah was 6 years old, Mrs. Mulligan thought it was high time that she learned how to sew. Still a Mama's boy at heart, Hercules sat down with them during Sarah's first sewing lesson.

"Now, place the thread through the needle and tie a knot to secure it in place," Hercules' mother began, patiently watching as Sarah struggled to follow her directions.

"Here, let me do it!" Hercules interrupted enthusiastically, snatching the needle and thread from his sister's hands and weaving it through in seconds.

"Hercules," his mother reprimanded immediately. "Apologize to your sister for taking her things. If you wanted to learn how to sew as well, you could have asked me first."

But Hercules wasn't paying attention. Mrs. Mulligan had laid out several scrap pieces of cloth to practice with, and without any sort of instruction, Hercules was already expertly closing the holes within the fabric and neatly stitching them together to form a small pocket.

Both ladies looked over in amazement as they watched what was happening.

"Hercules!" His mother said in surprise, though not unkindly. "Where on Earth did you learn how to do that?"

He finally glanced up. "What, this? I don't know, it just felt natural." He paused. "Am I in trouble?" He asked hesitantly, putting down his handiwork.

Mrs. Mulligan was proud to call herself an open-minded woman, one who detested slavery and treated everyone equally, and her son sewing as well as she has after over twenty years of practice on his first try was no exception to this fact.

"No, of course not!" she exclaimed. "Hercules, you have a natural talent for sewing, and I could never be mad at you for that. This skill could very well lead you to become an excellent tailor, a very respected profession!" She added after a moment's pause.

Hercules felt an immense amount of pride.

"Really?"

Though he thought his father wanted him to become an accountant like him, the idea of one day owning his own shop where he mended clothes and fixed imperfections, and most importantly helped people was extremely tempting to him. He wanted to make the world a better place, much like his idol, the original Hercules, and what better place to start than people's clothing? After all, everyone needed it, even the first Hercules, and his mother approved of it. What better career choice than tailoring?

"Oh I can't wait to tell your father about this! He'll be so proud!" His mother exclaimed, looking at him with pride shimmering in her eyes.

For the first time since he picked up that needle, he turned towards his sister. She was looking at him with a strange expression on her face, a look he couldn't read—jealously, annoyance? Finally, she smiled as brightly as his mother.

"Guess you proved us wrong after all Herc. You're going to create some amazing stuff, I just know it. But first, can you hem my dresses?"

 **A/N: Hmmm... How's Hercules' dad going to react when he finds out what his son wants to do? Here's a hint: it's not going to be good. It's going to break little Herc's heart. Also, I'm an evil person if you haven't figured that out yet.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: All characters belong to Lin-Manuel Miranda. Thanks again for reading my stories! Also, as a side note, Hercules' parent's names are Sarah and Hugh. Hercules definitely had a brother named Hugh, but I figured they would name their children after themselves, hence the names Sarah and Hugh for Hercules' siblings. And, my line breaks are still nonexistent. If someone could tell me how to create them that would save me like 5 minutes every time I update! And I'm also sorry that this chapter is kind of short. I promise I'll try to make it longer when I post the next chapter.**

Hercules bounced on the balls of his feet for the rest of the day as he waited excitedly for his father to return from work. When Mr. Mulligan finally did step through the threshold of the household, Hercules immediately battered him with words.

"Pa! Today I found out that I can sew really well and Ma told me that I could even be a tailor one day!"

Hercules looked up expectantly at his father's expression for any sign of pride or excitement that had appeared on his mother's face. What he saw however, was quite the opposite: annoyance.

"Son," Hercules' father began exasperaqtedly. "Real men don't sew. That's women's work. I expected more from you than that."

Hercules' face fell almost comically fast. Tears bubbled in his eyes and threatened to fall as he turned away, determined not to let his father see his disappointment. Instead, he climbed the stairs to his room as quickly as he could, wiping away tears all the same.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Mrs. Mulligan was in the kitchen when she heard the commotion from the entrance hall. Pausing in the middle of preparing dinner for her family, she stepped out and hurried over to her husband, who was setting his things down on a side table.

"Hugh? Where's Hercules?" She knew that the boy wanted to tell his father as soon as he had discovered his newfound talent.

Hercules' father sighed. "Did you know about his new passion for sewing? I can't believe that boy. I mean, I always thought he was a little too sensitive, but never in my wildest dreams would I think that he would turn to tailoring."

Shaking his head in amusement, he smiled slightly as he turned toward his wife, expecting a similar expression on her face. Instead, she glared at him and placed her hands on her hips, a stance he knew was never good.

"Actually, I encouraged him to pursue his interests," she said coldly.

"Sarah," Mr. Mulligan replied in frustration. "He's a boy for God's sake. Men don't do this sort of thing."

Mrs. Mulligan stared down her husband in silence for a few more seconds until she stormed upstairs, leaving him standing in absolute disbelief at the bottom of the steps.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Knocking softly on her eldest son's door, Hercules' mother entered as gently as she could, gazing at him in pity when she saw his figure.

Hercules was hunched over in a corner of the room, curled up in the fetal position, the unmistakable sound of sobs emanating from the 7 year old boy.

"Hercules, dear," his mother began. "I'm sorry about your father's behavior. He gets a little closed-minded sometimes. But don't worry, you can still pursue a career in tailoring. I'll do everything in my power to ensure you become one."

He raised his eyes with a mournful expression etched on his face.

"What if I don't want to be one?"

Hercules' mother gave him a sad smile.

"Don't let your father make you doubt your decisions, my dear. But if you have had a change of heart, I'll support you in whatever you do choose to do."

Hercules felt significantly more comforted.

"Thank you, mother."

He leaned over to hug her, and promised himself that he would do everything he could to reach his dream and change the world. He would no longer be trying to live up to the original Hercules. He would be a hero by himself, the great Hercules Mulligan.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

As the months passed, Hercules Mulligan became famous in his own right, the surprisingly muscular (sorry I was thinking of Oak) 7 year old who could stitch up your clothes just as well if not better than the old tailor whose shop was down the street.

Though he never asked for payment, Hercules' customers rewarded him in whatever way they could, for most of them were too poor to afford a real tailor and had to rely on an eager little boy with a needle and thread instead. He collected some money of course, whatever they could spare, but also loaves of bread, bouquets of flowers, fresh fruit and vegetables, and even a few jugs of milk.

His mother was extremely proud of his endeavors, and his siblings as well, for they received his conveniently located services for free, but his father was a whole other matter. Though the entire neighborhood chattered about the talented young tailor, Mr. Mulligan ignored both them and his son, still refusing to accept that his burly son would take on such a "feminine" job.

However much Hercules respected his father, his success gave him the confidence to keep going, and despite the many nights he had to stay up late to finish stitching up a pair of pants, it was worth every second.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: All characters belong to Linnamonroll. Anyway, at this point, Hercules' actual past is super vague,** **so** **Ima make some stuff up now. Also, I'm sorry I interrupted the story so much with notes. I couldn't resist. Thank you for the views and reviews (hey that rhymes) and now on with the story! P.S. I didn't proof read this so there might be mistakes.**

When Hercules was 15, he applied to King's College and was accepted, a fact that delighted his mother and made even his begrudging father crack a smile. Though Sarah and Hugh were upset about his future absence, they were proud nonetheless.

Hercules had continued with his ambitions to be a tailor, steadily building up his business in his neighborhood, but soon found out his father was right about one thing: tailoring wasn't a respected profession, at least at King's College.

Even though all of the students studied the same subjects, a wide array including Latin, mathematics, writing and speech, and more, many of them had already selected their careers: future politicians, lawyers, and businessmen. Hercules, however, refused to conform to their standards.

James Westley, Adam Smith, and John Best were Hercules' roommates and also his closest friends. One day during lunch, as they were discussing what they were going to do outside of school, Hercules let it slip that he was aspiring to be a tailor.

Raucous laughter roared around him as his classmates considered his words.

"Ha, a tailor!" One joked.

"Can you believe him? Coming all the way to King's just to be a tailor!" Another said sneeringly.

"That's a good one. What are you actually going to be?" A third laughed, assuming that Hercules was kidding.

Hercules felt the shame rise in him (History Has Its Eyes On You? Anybody?). His neighborhood start up had been a massive success, and he had naïvely assumed that that popularity would continue in his higher education.

Trying his best not to let his disappointment show, (remember from chapter 2?) Hercules quietly exited the mess hall, resolving to not break down until he at least reached the dorms. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't hold in his tears as they streamed down his face.

Fortunately for him, pouring rain greeted him as soon as he stepped out of the building, hopefully masking his tears. Walking quickly to avoid getting more soaked than he already was, he was too preoccupied in his sorrow to notice a young woman (oooohhh) directly in his path.

Bumping into her, Hercules accidentally knocked her down, causing her to drop the wicker basket she had been carrying, as well as her umbrella.

"I'm so sorry!" Hercules cried. "Are you all right?" He asked concernedly.

He saw a curtain of brown hair and a pretty green dress before the woman lifted her head, her kind face catching his eye immediately.

"It's alright, I was just bringing my father his lunch. He's a professor here, and tends to forget to eat as he's too absorbed in his studies." She laughed, a melodic sound Hercules immediately wanted to hear again.

Hercules offered his hand, helping her up and picking up her basket and umbrella as well.

"Still, I'm terribly sorry. If there's anything I can do, simply say it." Hercules was terribly taken by her beauty and charm.

The pretty young woman smiled. "I appreciate your offer, but I really must be going." She paused. "Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Elizabeth Sanders." She offered her hand.

"Hercules Mulligan," he replied, getting more dumbstruck by the minute. But not enough to forget to place a kiss on her hand, though it was unfortunately covered by a matching green glove.

"Pleased to meet you," Elizabeth smiled. "Well, if that's all- are you all right?" Hercules had been so preoccupied with Elizabeth that he had forgotten about his previous state, and Elizabeth had finally taken a clear look at his face when they introduced themselves.

Aware that he probably still had red eyes from crying, Hercules immediately flashed her a hopefully convincing smile, not wanting to look weak in front of her.

"I'm fine. It's nothing for you to worry about. But thank you for asking, I appreciate your concern."

Elizabeth stared at him for a few seconds as if making some sort of decision, before she gently took his arm and began to walk with him, steering him towards the professors' offices.

"No, you're not," she stated. "And we're going to talk about it, but I really must deliver my father his lunch first. Then, I'll get to the bottom of this."

Allowing the young lady to lead him to her father's office willingly, Hercules felt that Elizabeth Sanders was a special woman, one that he wouldn't mind getting to know.

Pausing just beyond the doorway of Dr. Sander's office, Elizabeth turned.

"Wait for me here. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Nodding his head, Hercules leaned against an adjacent brick wall as he waited for Elizabeth to finish her conversation, already missing her company.

* * *

When she returned, Elizabeth gave him a cheery wave.

"Thank you for waiting. Now," she said sternly. "On to more pressing matters."

The rain had stopped by then, and as Elizabeth and Hercules left the staff offices, she began to interrogate Hercules, but gently.

"What happened?" Elizabeth started. "You can tell me, and I promise I won't get angry or laugh at you, depending on what it is."

Though he had just met her, Miss Sanders seemed like his mother with her caring nature, always willing to lend a listening ear.

"Well," Hercules sighed. "It all started when I was 7, my sister had just started her first sewing lesson..."

And he told the whole, very long story, starting from the very beginning and ending at the jeers in the lunchroom as they walked around the campus. Elizabeth was a good listener, and stayed quiet the whole time, a thoughtful expression on her face, even during the more emotional parts.

When he had finally finished his tale, Elizabeth stopped. They were in a large cobblestone square, the languages and science buildings on either side. Elizabeth gave him a sad glance.

"Hercules, I'm so sorry for the way both your classmates and your father treated you," she began. "I feel like I already know you, even though we just met, but I can already sense how important this is to you. I just want you to know that I support you, and I do hope that you continue to pursue tailoring."

At this, Elizabeth glanced down at his slightly worn though perfectly fitting waistcoat and breeches.

"Because from the looks of things," she continued, giving him a large grin. "You seem to be pretty good at it."

Hercules felt like crying again. Here was a woman he barely knew, a stranger, who had reassured him to continue following his dreams when he needed that support the most.

Even though it was probably inappropriate, he took several steps forward and hugged Elizabeth tightly, the latter of whom didn't miss a beat and returned the gesture.

"Thank you," Hercules said quietly, hoping that those two words would carry his gratitude properly.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth replied, her voice sounding a little thick from her emotions.

He pulled away as soon as he realized that he might be hugging an engaged or worse married woman. Expressing his concerns, he started,

"Are you-"

"No," Elizabeth said quickly, following his train of thought. "Are you?"

"No," Hercules said in the same quick manner.

"Good," Elizabeth smiled. "Because I'd hate to greatly enjoy the company of a taken man."

 _Did she just say what I think she said?_ He wondered _,_ realizing with an immense amount of horror that he had voiced his thoughts aloud judging from Elizabeth's amused expression.

"Yes, I did," Elizabeth confirmed, her smile growing wider each passing second.

"Um, that's good, because otherwise that would have been really awkward-" Hercules rambled, suddenly losing all of the confidence he had somehow mustered before.

Elizabeth had stopped his tirade by pecking him on the cheek. "Write to me, won't you?" She asked, handing him a scrap of parchment with her name and address.

"Yes, of course. Absolutely," Hercules replied quickly, wondering if he was imagining what was happening.

"Excellent. Well, I really must be on my way now. I hope to see you soon, Hercules," Elizabeth said, giving him a small smile as she walked off, leaving him standing there with a hand over his cheek and an aching heart.

 **A/N: Elizabeth Sanders was an actual person, but their meeting was fictional. Also, Herc's college buddies are fake too. I ended up writing Elizabeth like Eliza, probably because they share the same name. Little Hercules has his first crush! It's so adorable, I'm loving every minute of it.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters. Anyway, thanks for reading/reviewing as usual, at this point I don't really know where this story is going but here you go! And again, didn't proof read, apologies in advance.**

Hercules' infatuation with Elizabeth Sanders didn't diminish. Though they didn't meet again for several more months, their letters grew increasingly flirtatious as time went on.

As much as Hercules despised the taunts he received over his chosen profession, he tactfully ignored them and focused on his studies instead, and of course, his correspondence with Elizabeth.

When he went home for Christmas in December of 1756, he couldn't seem to take the large grin off his face after receiving word that Elizabeth would try to visit him over the holidays.

This greatly concerned his sister, who interrupted their relatively quiet Christmas dinner by asking, "are you okay, Herc? You seem a little strange."

"Hmm?" Sarah had interrupted his reverie. "Oh, I'm fine. Great, in fact. I'm just really happy right now."

Sarah caught on immediately. "Who is she?" She asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Hercules sighed, unable to control the blush creeping into his cheeks.

"Why do you assume it's a girl? I mean-"

Sarah didn't buy his excuses.

"Oh, all right," he gave in. "Her name is Elizabeth Sanders. She's the daughter of the English professor at school."

Mrs. Mulligan couldn't wait any longer, and interjected excitedly, "oh I'm so happy for you Hercules! I can't wait to meet her!"

Hugh looked disgusted, considering he was still 11 years old, while Hercules' father had a questioning look on his face.

"English professor's daughter, huh?" He asked. "Are you sure she's of an appropriate status?"

Though the Mulligans were not poor, merely upper middle class, Mr. Mulligan considered themselves above everyone else, a fact that annoyed his wife and confused his children.

Hercules' mother immediately turned to her husband with an accusing look on her face. The whole family braced for the outrage about to follow.

"Hugh, this isn't 1705 anymore! Hercules can marry whoever-"

"Wait, mother, I never said anything about marriage," Hercules said alarmingly.

"Of course you did, dear," Mrs. Mulligan replied, turning around with a knowing look in her eyes.

"Anyway," she continued. "Hercules can marry- fine court, anyone he wants, regardless of social class or status. He will choose whoever he loves, not whoever has the most money."

Judging from the silence that ensued after her speech, Hercules' mother looked around in a satisfied sort of way, and determined that it was effective enough to continue eating her dinner.

Hercules finally decided to breach the tense quiet.

He coughed awkwardly, and said, "speaking of which, Elizabeth has offered to come and see me next Tuesday. Is that alright-"

"Of course, dear!" Mrs. Mulligan responded predictably. "This must be so exciting for you! And since she's meeting your family, we must meet hers, I bet she's lovely, you know, we should probably prepare for the wedding soon-"

"Mother," Hercules pleaded. "Can you not say the word "wedding" until I at least get out of school? And for God's sake, please don't mention it when she comes."

His mother looked resigned. "Fine, I promise I'll try not to embarrass you on purpose."

"Good," Hercules replied, trying not to sound too harsh with her.

He leaned back in his chair and tried to pretend that everything would go smoothly next week.

* * *

Hercules paced anxiously in front of the door as he waited for Elizabeth to come. He was dressed in his best clothes, had polished his shoes, and even attempted to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt.

He had at least three papers to write for school, including one ironically for Elizabeth's father, but he couldn't care less about them at the moment.

Jumping as he heard the knock on the door, Hercules hurried to open it before his mother could, not willing to face embarrassment quite yet.

Standing there on his doorstep was Elizabeth, wearing a lovely sky blue dress with an intricate lace trim and cuffs (hey he wasn't a tailor for nothing—he kept up with fashion for both genders).

"Mr. Mulligan," she said politely, a teasing manner clearly visible in her eyes.

"Miss Sanders," he responded, following her lead. "Welcome to our home." He stepped aside to allow her to pass through.

"After you," he smirked, watching as she rolled her eyes and entered the house, a polite smile still on her lips as she saw Hercules' mother in the kitchen.

"You must be Miss Sanders!" The older woman exclaimed, rushing forward and grabbing Elizabeth into a bear hug, surprise at the gesture evident on Elizabeth's face. "My dear Hercules has spoken much about you," she said warmly.

Hercules shot his mother a slightly annoyed look, not entirely genuine though.

"And you must be Mrs. Mulligan," Elizabeth responded, still full of grace. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you," Hercules' mother replied, unable to keep the excitement of meeting her eldest son's beloved out of her voice.

"Now, come into the parlor," she stated, business-like. "Some tea, perhaps, to get you warmed up?"

Mrs. Mulligan guided both of them into said room, and then bustled off into the kitchen, pulling out her best set of china.

"Your mother seems like a kind woman," Elizabeth began, once they were seated.

"She is," Hercules agreed, "but a little overly enthusiastic sometimes."

She laughed. "I think that was evident in the large hug she gave me when we first met."

He chuckled in return. They stayed in comfortable silence until his mother came in with tea and finger sandwiches. As she glided over to their seats, she leaned over and whispered something in Elizabeth's ear, which caused her to first blush but then turn significantly paler before placing the refreshments on the table.

"Now!" Mrs. Mulligan said cheerfully, juxtaposing Elizabeth's fearful look, "I want to know all about Miss Sanders here."

Hercules took Elizabeth's hand in concern, for her face had still not returned to her normal complexion, but nevertheless, Elizabeth found the strength to explain her father's line of work, her own pursuits in learning, for her father refused to allow his only daughter to be uneducated, and her uncle, Admiral Sanders, who was in the Royal British Navy.

It soon became mainly a female conversation, with Hercules' mother chatting amicably about this and that while Elizabeth politely responded. Meanwhile, Hercules nodded occasionally to show that he was still listening, while desperately wanting one of those finger sandwiches, but felt that he couldn't take one, as it seemed to only be for the ladies.

After talking for nearly three hours, Mrs. Mulligan glanced at the clock, and said in surprise, "goodness, look at the time! Elizabeth, I've likely kept you here for far too long, my apologies. Well, it was nice meeting you, and I hope to see you soon. Hercules, would you be a gentleman and escort her out?"

Hercules jumped as he was called, as he had been mindlessly daydreaming, but jumped to his feet and offered Elizabeth his hand. She took it gratefully, and they walked in silence to the front door. As she stepped outside, Hercules hesitantly asked, "Elizabeth, what did my mother ask that frightened you so much?"

Elizabeth paused, then began to laugh, saying, "it was terrifying at first but seems quite amusing now. She first welcomed me into the family, but then threatened to toss me into New York Harbor if I hurt you."

 **A/N: Phew! I had no idea where that was going. Anyway, Elizabeth was actually the niece of an Admiral Sanders, but I enjoyed Hercules' mother threatening Elizabeth. Like, all nice and stuff, but when it comes to her children, she isn't going to take any shit.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating! I was sort of busy yesterday, but I'll try to make this chapter extra long in return. Thank you for the views/reviews! Last time I checked I think it was around 200 views. No proofreading as usual, I guess we all have to accept that at this point. Anyway, everything belongs to Linnamonroll, and on with the story!**

3 years later, Hercules Mulligan graduated from King's College with flying colors and an engagement ring in his pocket. He had bought it after the fateful afternoon tea with his mother and Elizabeth, as soon as he had realized what his mother knew all along.

Though he had wanted to propose that very second, he figured he would have to ask Elizabeth's father for her hand with at least a college degree. Preferably a stable job as well, but at this point, Hercules was unsure that he could wait that long.

After the graduation ceremony, his family and hopefully future fiancée met him with pride as they stood to take pictures.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you, dear!" His mother exclaimed. "We all are, in fact."

"As well am I, Hercules," Elizabeth added, giving him a warm smile.

"Nice work, son," Hercules' father said gruffly. "But what are you actually going to do now that your schooling is over?"

Hercules' cheerful expression darkened significantly. "What do you mean, father?"

"I mean," his father sighed, "that silly pastime you've held so far is no longer endearing, Hercules. It's time for a real job, not whimsical fantasies. Perhaps an internship in my accounting firm might do you some good."

The Mulligans and Elizabeth immediately responded. Mrs. Mulligan and her essentially daughter-in-law looked on with expressions of outrage and the readiness to slap some sense into Mr. Mulligan. Meanwhile, Hugh and Sarah, though they didn't agree with their father, backed away in both fear and excitement at the upcoming battle.

Hercules sensed what was about to happen and immediately established himself the peacekeeper.

"No need to resort to harsh words, Mother, Elizabeth. Father," he added as an afterthought. "Both of you make good points, and though I refuse to give up my pursuit in tailoring-" he said, glaring at his father. "I would be willing to spend a semester as an intern in your accounting firm," he said resignedly.

"Hercules, no!" Both his mother and Elizabeth cried.

"You don't have to do this," Elizabeth said.

"I'll talk some sense into your father, no need to worry," Hercules' mother stated firmly.

"Herc, don't do it! You can't" His siblings shouted.

"Enough," Mr. Mulligan said, extinguishing the argument in a second. "Hercules has agreed with me, for once, and I had hoped that you would respect his decision, instead of blatantly fighting on his behalf when you have no idea what he wishes anyway."

Following his speech was the most silence he had ever heard from his family.

Hercules tried to placate them. "It'll be alright. I've made my choice, and at this point, you can't persuade me otherwise. It's not permanent, I can promise you that. This internship is only for me to prove how I am not anything but a tailor."

Looking slightly more comforted, he and his family exited quietly, a somber cloud hovering over them as the crowds around them laughed and cried with joy.

* * *

The following day, a mere 24 hours before he was bound to start his internship, Hercules made the trek to Elizabeth's home, palms sweating and an evidently nervous air about him as he clutched the diamond in his waistcoat pocket.

Clearing his throat, he knocked on the door with a shaky hand.

Opening it almost immediately was Elizabeth. "Hercules! What a pleasant surprise. I didn't know you were coming to visit me today."

Hercules replied a little too fast. "I wasn't. I'm here to see your father."

"Oh." Elizabeth's face dropped somewhat. "Something academic then?"

Before he had time to answer she stepped aside to let him pass.

"Let me lead you to his office then. He's taking a break right now, so he most likely won't get angry at you for interrupting his work," she said, a corner of her mouth curved upwards.

Hercules politely chuckled, feeling that his heart was jumping out of his chest with each passing second.

Elizabeth noticed. Stopping concernedly, she asked, "Hercules, are you alright? You look pale."

He tried to avoid betraying the agonizing fear he felt as he replied. "I'm fine. It's nothing for you to worry about."

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. She knew he was hiding something, but decided not to press him.

They had finally reached Professor Sander's office. Kissing him on the cheek, Elizabeth murmured, "good luck with whatever you're trying to do," and left, leaving Hercules alone and terrified.

Knocking on the oak door, he heard a clear, "come in" and hesitantly opened the door, staring at his former college professor with shock.

The always neat and tidy Professor Sanders was now disheveled and surrounded by mountains of papers, red eyes brimming with caffeine and exhaustion. (Sound like a familiar bastard orphan?)

"Um..." Hercules started dignifiedly to his future father-in-law.

"Ah, Mr. Mulligan, is it?" Professor Sanders peered at him blearily through his spectacles. "Did you forget to turn in a paper? If so, it's much too late. I'm surprised they let you graduate if you did-"

"I'm, uh, not here about school. It's about your daughter. I'd like to ask you for your blessing so I can marry her."

Professor Sanders narrowed his eyes, sitting up straighter now. "Hercules Mulligan? The one my daughter has been talking about for 4 years now? The future tailor's apprentice?"

"Yes, sir," Hercules said with as much courage as he could muster.

"And you want to ask for my daughter's hand even though you currently have no job, much less any income?"

"Well, yes, but I'm starting as an intern in my father's accounting firm tomorrow-" Hercules tried to defend himself.

"But later you'll use the excellent education, if I do say so myself, that you received at King's College to become a simple merchant?"

"Um..." At this point Hercules figured his chances were worse than non-existent.

"But do you love my daughter?"

At this question Hercules widened his eyes in surprise. He was a terrible candidate, but here was one question he could actually answer.

"With all my heart," Hercules stated, as honestly as he could.

Professor Sanders smiled for the first time in all his years that he had known him. "Welcome to the family."

Hercules grinned widely, feeling all of his nervousness melt off him. "Thank you, sir."

"If I may," Professor Sanders asked, "could I look at the ring you've picked out? I know you have it, judging by the hand in your pocket." He added amusedly.

Hercules blushed but handed over the box nevertheless. "It was my grandmother's."

Inside the velvet casing was a small but beautiful ring, with a square-cut diamond and an elegant silver band.

"Lovely choice," Professor Sanders commented. "You should probably give it to her now though."

"I will," he promised.

"And, Hercules?" The older man added as the young man was exiting the room. "Please take care of my daughter."

Hercules paused and turned around. "I promise," he said, summoning all of the sincerity in his love for Elizabeth.

* * *

As he was leaving the Sanders' house, he quite literally ran into Elizabeth in the hallway outside of her father's office.

"How do we always end up meeting like this?" Elizabeth laughed before Hercules could apologize profusely.

"It's one of the many things that's unique in our relationship," he answered as he extended a hand to help Elizabeth get back on her feet, an apologetic look still on his face.

Elizabeth paused. "Did something happen while you were conversing with my father? You seem... Different."

Hercules smiled. "Nothing happened. But an idea has popped into my mind right now. Care to try it out with me?"

Elizabeth grinned. "I'd love to."

Hercules rubbed his hands together, pretending to think hard. "Right. Well, I propose that we have a picnic. I'm not telling you where, that'd ruin the surprise. But, I will gather a blanket and some food and I'll meet you where we first met."

He suddenly cracked a large smile on his face. "Where I knocked you down the first time."

She laughed. "Alright. In half an hours time?"

Hercules nodded. "I'll see you there."

He pecked her on the cheek and rushed off, immediately thinking of his mother, who would most likely leap with excitement then immediately rush off to the kitchen to help him prepare when she heard the news.

* * *

30 minutes later, with a large flannel blanket and a wicker basket groaning with food, Hercules trudged into King's College with a determined mindset.

Standing in the center of the square where they had met was Elizabeth, wearing a very familiar outfit.

Hercules laughed loudly. "Are you wearing the same dress that you wore when we first met?"

Elizabeth smiled playfully. "Well, I decided that since we were focusing on the past so much, I might as well contribute to it."

Hercules shook his head in delight. "I love that dress, did you know that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. Why do you think I wear it so often?"

Chuckling, Hercules turned her shoulders and said gently, "close your eyes."

Obeying, Elizabeth shut her eyes and continued playfully, "where are you taking me?"

"Oh," he pretended to be nonchalant. "Somewhere nice."

Leading them carefully out of the square, he began to make his way towards the botanical garden on the far side of campus. Once they got to the bottom of the hill he wanted to have their picnic at, he stopped.

"Okay, Elizabeth, I'm going to set up the picnic but I still want it to be a surprise. Just stay where you are and I'll be back in a minute."

Nodding her head in response, Hercules hurried up the grassy mound and quickly unpacked the blanket and basket. As soon as he finished, he jogged back down to get Elizabeth.

"Done," he said happily. "I'm going to carry you up though, because it might be difficult for you walk up blindfolded and-" he glanced down at her shoes. "In heels."

Smiling, she accepted and he hoisted her into his arms. Trying to keep his walk as smooth as possible, he soon set her down.

"Alright, you can open your eyes now." Hercules said excitedly.

Elizabeth's blue eyes fluttered open and she gasped in surprise.

He had picked a shady spot under a gnarled apple tree, and had brought sparkling cider, finger sandwiches that he could finally eat, and a bowl of fresh strawberries.

"Thank you, Hercules." Elizabeth reached over and hugged him tightly in gratitude.

"Anything for you," he replied warmly. "Now, come on, let's sit down. I'm really hungry and dying to try one of those sandwiches-"

Laughing, they made their way over and had a blissful time snacking and enjoying the view, which encompassed the entire garden and campus.

Nearing the end of the afternoon, Elizabeth said, "I had a lovely time with you, Hercules. I can't thank you enough."

Hercules smiled. "Of course. But there's one thing that you could do for me-"

"Anything," Elizabeth replied eagerly.

He brought out the ring box he had been hiding in his pocket and got down on one knee.

"Elizabeth Sanders," Hercules said, slightly nervous. "Will you do me the biggest favor ever and marry me?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Why do you even ask, Hercules? You already know the answer."

A moment's silence. "So... Yes?"

She answered by leaning over and smashing her lips against her now fiancé's as he widened his eyes in shock. But Hercules returned the gesture with just as much enthusiasm if not more, wrapping his broad arms around her waist as she grabbed his face.

Finally Elizabeth pulled away as both of them contemplated their actions with deep breaths. They both burst out laughing at the ridiculous nature of their first true kiss.

"Well," Hercules started once their laughter had bubbled down somewhat. "That was fun. I mean, I think we were supposed to do that during the ceremony but I'm not complaining."

She grinned. "Neither am I. Though, I am surprised that that," here she pointed at the ring box. "Didn't get in the way."

"Oh, that. I'm supposed to give you it, right?" Hercules said sheepishly, picking it up and sliding the ring on Elizabeth's finger, a perfect fit.

She admired the ring on her hand and held it up to the sun. "Were you asking my father for my hand when you were talking to him before?" She questioned, considering his nervousness and what had occurred.

"What? Oh yeah. Yeah, turns out your father does like me. I think." Hercules responded, clearing up their meal.

"I'm sure he does," Elizabeth said, now helping Hercules with the plates. "He's an emotional man, just doesn't always show it."

"Hmm," Hercules replied. "Well combined with my mother, I'm sure there's going to be plenty of emotion at our wedding."

 **A/N: Aaaaaaahhhh! I'm screaming right now if you can't tell. That was like the fluffiest thing I've ever written, but the cutest thing ever. I'm dying to see how this turns out. Also, the botanical garden is fictional, so don't get any ideas now.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you guys again for your support! Finally, no proofreading as usual, and Linnamonroll owns everything. What time is it? SHOWTIME!**

Hercules should have seen it coming. He was walking into a brand new job with no expertise whatsoever, the son of the head of the firm, and a stupidly happy grin on his face.

So now that he's considered it, it's no surprise that he was immediately bullied by his fellow interns, an all too familiar scene for him at this point in his life.

"He's only here because of his father," many whispered around the office scathingly. "Was gonna be a tailor's apprentice, but Mulligan didn't want him to sink that low."

Suffice to say, Hercules did not enjoy accounting. He was only good with numbers when it came to measurements, and had never been particularly passionate about his math courses, something he regretted deeply now.

The only thing that kept him going, however, was his upcoming wedding with Elizabeth. His mother had spread the news with the family as soon as he had arrived back home after the picnic, and while his siblings exclaimed loudly in excitement, his father had merely muttered a begrudging "good work son."

Time passed painstakingly slow, as Hercules struggled with numbers and endured the taunts of co-workers until finally, his internship ended and the wedding was only a few weeks away.

Coming home for the last time from the firm, Hercules entered the house with a relieved expression on his face.

"Well," his father asked gruffly from behind the pages of a news paper. "How was your internship these past months?"

Instead of screaming profanities like he was inside his mind, Hercules politely responded, "it was alright, but I wouldn't do it again."

His mother, who was well aware of how torturous it was for her eldest son, nodded in approval at his calmness and glared at her husband.

"See, Hugh? Hercules has humored you for five months now, and the only new thing we've established is his hatred for accounting. You must accept that he won't follow in your footsteps and allow him to continue down his own path."

Mr. Mulligan sighed, tired after a long day of work and even more tired of arguing with his wife.

"Fine, Hercules. Do whatever you want." And added, painfully, as his wife stared him down, "I will support you in whatever you choose to do."

Hercules gave his mother a grateful look, and turned to his father respectfully.

"Thank you, father." He paused, then looked at his mother again. "May I go visit Elizabeth before dinner? Simply to go over some planning again-"

"Of course, dear." Hercules' mother replied fondly. "But don't be late—I'm cooking your favorite tonight: roast beef with gravy and mashed potatoes."

Hercules' stomach rumbles with agreement, but he quickly turned around and opened the door, determined to tell Elizabeth the good news.

"Thank you mother. And father, too!" He shouted as he began to jog towards the Sanders' residence.

* * *

Twenty minutes late, he arrived on Elizabeth's doorstep. Before he was even able to knock, she opened the door, rolling her eyes.

"You know, we might as well give you a key since you visit so often," she said, pecking him on the cheek as he entered.

"Hey, the wedding's only a few weeks away. Soon we'll have our own house anyway," he protested.

"So what are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked as they sat down in the living room.

"Well, you know how I finished my internship today?" Hercules said. She nodded. "My mother managed to convince my father—okay she yelled at him but same thing— to let me freely decide my future career. I can become a tailor now without any resistance."

Elizabeth leaned over and hugged her fiancée.

"I'm so proud of you, Hercules."

"Thank you. I know how much you believe in me," he replied, embracing her tightly in return. "Now, I told my mother we were going to do wedding preparations today..."

The two young adults settled on the couch together as the woman pulled out a stack of papers filled with writing. Hunched over the documents, they began to talk, occasionally laughing, but most of all enjoying each other's company.

* * *

The day of the wedding had arrived. Hercules nervously paced in an antechamber in Trinity Church (near you) as his brother and father tried to reassure him.

"Don't worry, Herc. She obviously loves you, doesn't she? There's nothing to be afraid of," Hugh said reassuringly.

"Son," started Mr. Mulligan. "When I married your mother, I was about as nervous as you are now. But when I finally looked her in the eyes at the altar, nothing else mattered except the two of us."

Looking up in surprise, Hercules said, dead serious, "father, that was the most cliché and also the most emotional statement I've ever heard you say."

Hercules' father shrugged.

"Looked like you needed it, frankly," he said, giving his eldest son a genuine smile.

For the first time in a very long time, Hercules was glad that his father was the man he was. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

They heard a knock on the door and Sarah entered. "It's time," she said, glancing around. "Good luck Herc," she said, hugging her brother. Then, as an afterthought, added, "you'll do great things. And I'm not talking about just the wedding."

Hercules smiled in gratitude. "I will."

For the first since he had entered the church, Hercules walked proudly and confidently, marching easily up the aisle to stand at the altar. Mere minutes later, his bride emerged from a door on the right, wearing a breathtakingly beautiful lace gown and matching veil. She walked without a trace of fear with her father, both of them smiling broadly.

Though they had invited a relatively small number of people, 50 or so of their closest friends and family, Hercules already heard loud weeping, mainly from his mother and Elizabeth's father, as Elizabeth joined him at the altar.

"They've already started crying and we haven't even done anything yet," Elizabeth whispered quietly, lips quirking upwards.

"I know," Hercules replied, and wanted to add more, but the minister was clearing his throat loudly, so he shut his mouth.

"Ladies and gentleman, we are gathered here today to witness Elizabeth Sanders and Hercules Mulligan joined in holy matrimony..." The officiant began with an extremely monotonous voice, so much so that Hercules drifted off, daydreaming about when the ceremony would be over.

He was perfectly content with his thoughts until he heard a whispered Herc!" From Elizabeth and started, realizing as he did so that the entire church was staring at him.

"Uh— I do," he said quickly, praying that that was what they were staring at him for.

The minister sighed. "And Miss Elizabeth Sanders, do you take Hercules Mulligan to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Elizabeth said firmly, shooting Hercules a dark look.

"By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He looked at Hercules. "You may now kiss the bride."

Hercules eagerly grabbed Elizabeth's face and smashed his lips against her own, relishing in the joy of finally being able to call her his wife.

When he pulled away, they both grinned at each other until Elizabeth playfully swatted him away, saying, "well, even though you nearly destroyed the ceremony, I'm glad that you managed not to completely wreck it."

Hercules pretended to look offended. "Hey, to be fair, his voice was so boring I'm surprised that anyone managed to stay awake."

Elizabeth broke her angry façade, startling him with a laugh. "Fine, I agree. But that doesn't mean you're still not in trouble," she said, poking him in the stomach.

He was about to respond but was interrupted by his family surrounding them.

"Oh, congratulations you two!" His mother cried. Then she turned to Hercules. "Shame on you! You nearly destroyed the ceremony!"

"So I've been told," Hercules said amusedly. And before anyone else could berate him, he said loudly, "who wants to eat cake? I sure do!"

Following his statement was a chorus of loud cheering and he turned toward the crowd surrounding him. "Well? Want to join us?" He asked, gesturing to the mass exodus just beyond them.

Muttering at the stupidity of not paying attention in your own wedding, his family and Elizabeth shuffled after him, silently forgiving him, he hoped.

* * *

Elizabeth and himself had a lovely time dancing and eating cake—at least he did— until at last the night was over.

Sitting in the carriage that would take them to their honeymoon destination— a quiet villa in upper New York State, Hercules turned toward his wife.

"Are you ready for our next great adventure?"

Elizabeth snorted. "I would hope so. I married you."

 **A/N: I have no idea how accounting works, or what a minister is supposed to say. Or Herc's favorite meal. I made that up, (I actually hate gravy/mashed potatoes) but I had to google the rest. *Sigh*. Anyway, I struggled with writer's block a lot in this, and hope you enjoyed!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for reading my stories. Some of you asked how Lafayette/Hercules will happen, and I promise that it will, just give it some time. Basically, I'm sort of following a Hamilton storyline at this point. I have it all planned out. Anyway, everything belongs to Lin, and on with the story!**

Two years later, Hercules Mulligan owned a successful tailoring business, had a loving wife and 2 children, and an existential crisis. He had everything he had ever wanted, yet still felt that there was more to be done.

One day, as he was having dinner with his siblings and parents, his sister thoughtfully pointed out something he hadn't considered in a long time.

"Remember how you wanted to live up to your namesake when you were little, Herc? Honestly, I feel like you've done it. You've become everything you told us you would be. I'm proud of you, Herc."

At the time, he had simply smiled in gratitude, but as he sat in the back of his shop working on a late night project, he froze. _I haven't done enough_ , he thought. _Look at where I am_. He chuckled without a trace of amusement. _I've achieved my dream job, but I essentially only cater to wealthy British officers. I have to, in order to feed my family, but in the process I've lost my humanity. What happened to the little boy who offered his services for free, who helped_ _everyone_?

Hercules stood up. _I can do better. I_ will _do better. For the sake of everyone_ , he thought, immediately beginning to hatch a plan.

* * *

He had heard of an underground organization, The Sons of Liberty, from a close friend, John Lamb. A group devoted to freeing the colonies from British oppression. At first the idea had appalled him. He didn't love England, but he didn't want to get involved in the mess; a 360 turn around from his childhood audacity.

Once he realized that, Hercules immediately went to contact his friend. It was the perfect opportunity to forge a new beginning for himself.

That conversation led to him standing nervously in front of the New York City Liberty Pole two days after his epiphany. John had told him that it was the meeting place for anyone wishing to join The Sons of Liberty.

A stern voice broke his crusade of thoughts. "Who are you?"

Hercules jolted. "Me? I uh, I'm Hercules Mulligan. I want to join The Sons of Liberty."

The man smiled without humor, giving him a critical look. "Do you now? And I suppose you have exuberant dreams of martyrdom without an ounce of experience in anything but—what is it you do?"

"Tailoring," Hercules replied quietly.

"Ah, tailoring," the man smirked. "Of course you would be a clear candidate for a position in this organization. We're simply _desperate_ for tailors."

Hercules felt the familiar well of tears in his eyes, something really not acceptable for a 21 year old man looking to join a rebellion.

Before the critical man could taunt him further, another man stepped in front of him.

"Isaac," the second man scolded. "Trying to push away new recruits when we're severely short handed?"

The first spluttered indignantly. "I was only appeasing him, trying to see if he would be worthy enough to join,"

"'Worthy enough?'" The kinder of the two questioned. "For God's sake, I thought we were acting to spite wealth and status. If you love 'worthiness' so much you should join the redcoats, Isaac."

Isaac glared at his comrade, then at Hercules, before he stormed away, muttering curses under his breath.

"Don't mind him, he's been aggravating ever since a raid he planned didn't go quite as he expected," The remaining man said dismissively, waving his hand at Isaac's retreating figure. "Now, I'm Samuel Adams, one of the leaders of The Sons of Liberty. And you are?"

Hercules still gaped at his defender, stunned that anyone would stand up for him. Then he realized he was waiting to long and quickly replied, "Hercules Mulligan. I'm a tailor, but most of my customers are high-ranking British officers, and the information they tell me might potentially be of use to you," he ranted, repeating the reasoning he had memorized the day before about his usefulness.

Samuel Adams held up a hand. Hercules shut his mouth. Samuel then looked at him with a strange look on his face. Hercules assumed he was done for. But the former said something he thought he'd never hear.

"A tailor and a spy. Interesting. We could use someone like you," he said slowly.

"Really?" Hercules said excitedly. Then stopped, realizing his voice had jumped an octave. "I mean, yes, of course, I'm the perfect person for a spy. I already have some information if you're interested."

Samuel smiled. "Good. But first, I need to introduce you to the rest of the group."

He led Hercules past the Liberty Pole and into a nearby bar packed with burly men. They all looked up as they entered. Samuel turned to Hercules.

"Welcome to The Sons of Liberty."

* * *

Hercules shook too many hands to count, was definitely told too many names to remember, and handed at least 5 enormous mugs of beer, all of which he turned away. He couldn't afford to get drunk as a brand new recruit.

He told Samuel what his customers had told him, about King George prepared to send in thousands of more troops in order to contain the rowdy colonists, and the strong likelihood of war between the two land masses.

Though his companion later told him that they had already suspected what he'd told them, and he hadn't really brought in anything new, it was a good start. For the first time in an extremely long time, Hercules felt a part of something much larger than himself, and more importantly, felt needed.

He spent the rest of the day in that stingy bar, which was owned by a man sympathetic to their cause, and began to learn the power structure behind the group. Though there were no real leaders, and every man was generally equal, Samuel Adams along with a select few were considered the unofficial leaders of the organization. They had the most respect, and Hercules certainly didn't carry any grudge against this ruling method.

His orders were to continue listening to his British customers' remarks, and to see if he could pry anything important out of them. As soon as he did, he was to report to the Liberty Pole.

Walking home, Hercules felt a joy unparalleled even to his childhood tailoring business. He was becoming a good person, a hero.

* * *

When he arrived at his house, Elizabeth opened the door and saw his broad grin.

"Hercules? What happened?" She asked curiously, gesturing at the happiness practically oozing out of him.

"I just joined The Sons of Liberty," he said happily, walking towards her and embracing her tightly. "I'm finally doing something worth while."

Instead of jumping for joy with him like he thought she would, she instead froze. "I will always support you, and I know that you're trying to become a better person even more than you already are, but doesn't this seem a little dangerous? You have two small children and," she pointed at the prominent bump on her abdomen. "Another on the way. It's a worthy cause, but you shouldn't throw caution to the wind just yet."

Hercules sighed. "I'm just going to spy. I'll listen to my British clients and see if they have any important information. Nothing more than what I was already doing, I promise."

Elizabeth frowned. "I hope you're right. But I still worry about you, Hercules. You're not made of steel like the other men are, and that's one of the reasons why I fell in love with you, but it might put you in harm's way."

He took a step back. "Are you saying that I can't defend myself?" This was the first time he had ever argued with Elizabeth.

"All I'm saying," Elizabeth said gently, "is that this is dangerous, and I hope that you'll be careful."

He found that he couldn't be angry at his wife; she was only looking out for his wellbeing. "I will," he promised. But inside, a shadow of a doubt was already beginning to grow. _Am I really so weak that even my own wife doesn't think I can protect myself?_

 **A/N: Ok so I did a lot of research about The Sons of Liberty and Herc and it turns out that he joined TSoL before he married Elizabeth (oops) so sorry about that for those of you who care about historical accuracy. Anyway, I looked at a bunch of Wikipedia sites for that info, and Sam Adams, John Lamb, and Isaac Sears were all real members of TSoL. And Herc doubting himself and Elizabeth and him getting into an argument was hard to write, btw. The angst was terrible. Gotta wait for the next chapter, probably going to be updated tomorrow, to find out!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Linnamonroll. Anyway, thanks for reading as usual! You guys are awesome! Also, I made an ao3 account, and I haven't posted anything yet, but I will soon, and I'll basically have the same stories on both websites so you guys can access them in whatever way's more convenient. But I'm going to finish this story on Fanfic before I post the whole thing on ao3.**

Over the next few months, Hercules continuously proved his value to The Sons of Liberty while also gaining strength in the process. He rose through the ranks as the burly tailor/spy, a hero. He pushed away his nervousness and instead embraced the role with all the courage and bravado he could muster.

Though his vulnerability might have melted away, Hercules' morals didn't waver in the slightest. He assumed that he was still the same person inside, only better, but others didn't see eye to eye with him, particularly his wife.

Elizabeth Mulligan still loved her husband dearly, but he was longer the man she had fallen in love with. It would take her time to try to recognize him for who he was now, and in the meantime, Hercules didn't help matters by becoming completely and utterly devoted to helping the cause that had changed him in the first place.

One day after a briefing, Hercules ran into his younger brother Hugh walking with an unfamiliar man in the town square.

"Hugh!" Hercules cried. It had been a while since he had last seen his youngest sibling.

"Hercules!" Hugh responded with the same excitement. "How have you been? Oh, and this is Alexander Hamilton, by the way," he gestured at the man next to him. "He worked for a friend in The Caribbean as a clerk, and I'm trying to help him get on his feet here."

Hercules nodded in greeting. "Are you looking for some sort of formal education here in New York?"

Alexander nodded eagerly. "Yes, I was hoping to attend King's College."

Hugh smiled. "Lucky for you, my brother's a recent alumni of King's. I'm sure he could write you an excellent letter of recommendation, right Herc?"

Hercules barely knew him, but he couldn't turn down his brother. "Sure. Just, maybe tell me some things about yourself so I can write a good enough letter."

Alexander looked at him gratefully. "Absolutely. Thank you. So, the only reason I was able to get out of The Caribbean was because I wrote an essay detailing a hurricane that wrecked my town. The community was so impressed by my writing that they raised enough money to send me here. I know that sounds arrogant, but I'm really not. I'm just desperate, hoping someone is willing to take a chance with me." Hamilton spoke quickly, rambling with a determined fervor.

Hercules felt a large amount of pity for the immigrant. He had managed to get here by scraping together his wits, and by the looks of things, was extremely poor as well, judging from his threadbare clothes.

"I'm fairly confident I can persuade the admissions office to let you in. You do have the perfect underdog story after all. And I can also do a step better. Why don't you let me patch up your clothing? I am a tailor, after all, and I understand the importance of looking presentable."

Alexander looked at him in amazement, an expression that painfully reminded him of how he must have looked at Samuel Adams, the first person willing to give Hercules a chance when no one else would.

"Thank you. I promise I won't let you down. I won't throw away my shot."

The sincere gratitude in Alexander's voice was something that he hadn't heard ever since joining The Sons of Liberty. An unexpected idea began to take hold inside him, something that he hadn't noticed before he had met Alexander: _I've lost sight of who I am_.

* * *

Hercules hurried up the steps to his home, determined to make amends. Elizabeth opened the door when she heard his footsteps, and before she could make more than a sound of surprise, he was hugging his wife tightly, well aware of how close he had been to losing her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

He felt Elizabeth stiffen, something that felt worse than anything in the world, before he felt her reciprocate his actions, a sign that he definitely didn't deserve her.

"I've lost sight of who I am," he said quickly, worried that she might cut him off before he could apologize properly. "I've become selfish and pretended that I'm too tough to have emotions. I've been unfair to you and I don't expect you to forgive me, all I ask is that you to hear my apology and know how truly sorry I am."

Elizabeth stayed silent throughout his monologue, and when it was over, she paused, before saying quietly, "I forgive you."

Hercules blinked in surprise. "You don't have to. I've been terrible to you and the children, and I'll completely understand if you want to take some time for yourself—"

"Hercules," she said firmly. "I forgive you, and that's the end of it. Now, can you please come inside? The children are eager to eat dinner as I'm sure you are as well," she finished, a faint grin ghosting over her lips.

Hercules grinned in response. "Of course. Thank you," he added as an afterthought, stepping inside with a lighter heart than he'd had in a long time.

* * *

Hercules wrote Alexander an excellent letter of recommendation, which King's College wholeheartedly accepted. He also gave him a brand new waistcoat, shirt, and trousers, of the highest quality he could manage, replacing his original clothes free of charge.

"I can't possibly thank you enough," Alexander said gratefully, as Hercules handed him the new garments. "If there's anything you need, you need only ask."

"Thank you," Hercules replied courteously. "I'm sure I'll need your writing services in the future." He paused, thinking about what Samuel had told him recently. "Well, there is one thing you could do..."

"Absolutely. What is it you need?" Alexander said eagerly.

"Have you ever considered joining The Sons of Liberty?" Hercules asked politely.

Alexander stopped in tracks, for he had been about to reach for a scrap piece of parchment and a quill. "In The Caribbean, where I grew up, many of my neighbors were supportive of British rule, as was I," he said carefully.

Hercules felt a surge of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you change your political views. I wrongly assumed that you possessed Patriot ideals—"

"But," Alexander interrupted. "Now that I've been living in New York City for a few months now, I've come to the conclusion that Britain is in fact overextending its reach here."

Hercules froze, questioning whether the young man was really saying what he thought he was.

"And," Alexander added. "I would strongly wish to join such a worthy cause."

Hercules stared at the Caribbean immigrant in disbelief. It seems that he had changed his opinion about Britain in a heartbeat.

"That's excellent news," Hercules said with a slightly strangled voice, surprise still clearly evident in his voice.

"Now, what would I be doing?" Alexander questioned, a suspiciously calm mask hiding his amusement at the tailor's amazement.

"You would be writing anonymously published essays in favor of The Sons of Liberty, to promote more public support." Hercules finally managed to get his emotions under control.

"What a daunting task. I'll get started right away," Alexander replied, his familiar eagerness creeping back into his voice. "I'll send you each essay I finish. I imagine I can write at least 20, 25 if I strain my thoughts a bit harder."

Hercules' dumb-struck surprise had returned. Before he could say more than a single word, Alexander grabbed a large stack of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, then disappeared into his room, inside an apartment he was currently sharing with several other students at King's.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Hercules wondered whether Alexander Hamilton wasn't just a little bit insane.

 **A/N: The whole time when I was writing this, I just imagined Lin's voice whenever Alexander was speaking. Can't you see it? Anyway, most of this actually happened, with Hugh introducing Alex and Herc getting him into King's. But you didn't think I'd leave you hanging with Elizabeth/Herc, did you? I was imagining** ** _It's Quiet Uptown_** **the whole time for some reason. Huh. Also I originally put 10-15 for the number of essays Alex was gonna write but then I was like, wait, it's Alex. Until the next chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Yeah so I lied earlier. I had some time yesterday and posted Little Herc on ao3. I'll try to update both websites with each new chapter. Anyway, thanks for the views/reviews, now on with** **the show!**

The American Revolution had arrived. Alexander Hamilton was at the forefront of the storm, and he soon introduced several other significant members of The Continental Army to Hercules.

"Hercules, this is John Laurens," Alexander gestured at a man with curly black hair and a confident stature. "The Marquis de Lafayette," he pointed at a handsome Frenchman with an unmistakable air of command. "And finally, this is Aaron Burr." Upon hearing his name, a man with calculating eyes stood up and shook hands with Hercules.

"All of these men," Alexander continued, "are fellow officers in Washington's army."

"Pleasure to meet all of you," Hercules said politely. "I'm Hercules Mulligan, tailor, and also spy for The Sons of Liberty. I have a lot of British officers as customers," he added as he saw several looks of confusion among the group of men.

Laurens stood up. They were sitting in a bar known to offer free drinks to Washington's soldiers.

"Now that the pleasantries are over," he stated boldly, "we can start to drink!"

A loud chorus of cheers greeted him in response. For the rest of the night, Hercules drank too many shots to count, and was also unable to take his eyes off a certain French officer.

* * *

Stumbling blindly into the streets, the extremely drunk group of 5 wandered the cobblestone paths of New York City aimlessly, stopping here and there as a storefront captured their inebriated attention or passerby scoffed at the raucous men.

Eventually time passed well into the early morning hours, and one by one, the men staggered off to their own private residences until only Hercules and Lafayette were left.

"It's been a good night," Lafayette slurred, leaning against him and providing him with an unexpected heat source.

"As it has, my friend," Hercules replied with the same drunken thoughtlessness.

They had somehow managed to arrive at the Mulligan residence. All was quiet save for their uncalibrated steps.

"You're very warm," Hercules mumbled sleepily, pushing against the Frenchman until he was close enough to clearly see his hazel eyes.

"This is nice," Lafayette said, his French accent becoming more prominent and letting his eyes droop.

"Mhm," he responded.

The two men stayed leaning against each other for support for a few more minutes, enjoying the feeling of their shared warmth.

"I gotta go," Hercules pulled away unwillingly. "I got stuff to do tomorrow. I should probably sleep."

Lafayette nodded slowly. "Me too. Stuff."

They still didn't move away from each other.

Hercules looked up blearily at his companion's face. He traced Lafayette's lips with his fingers.

"You lips are soft," he commented.

Lafayette looked down. "You're pretty," he slurred.

Slowly, their drunken faces inched closer until their lips met, engaging in a minute long kiss before they simultaneously pulled away.

Still not realizing the repercussions of what they'd done, Hercules stumbled up the steps of his home and ran into his front door.

"Bye, Laf." At this point he couldn't even fully say the Frenchman's name.

"Goodbye Hercules," Lafayette replied, walking erratically into the darkness..

* * *

When Hercules woke up the next morning he immediately processed two thing: he had a terrible hangover and he had kissed a man.

Groaning at both dilemmas, Hercules dragged himself over to the bathroom, where he splashed his face with water until he could think relatively clearly.

As he considered the previous night's adventures, he surprisingly didn't feel an ounce of regret, particularly about Lafayette. He only wished that first kiss had occurred with less alcohol.

Guilt quickly bubbled to the surface. He had a loving wife and family, yet he also somehow loved a French officer he had just met the other day? And not to mention the fact that gay men weren't exactly approved by society, if that was what Hercules was.

Hercules' inner turmoil slowly gnawed at him, eating him up until Elizabeth called him to breakfast. When he went downstairs, he couldn't even look his family in the face, especially Elizabeth, who was pregnant with their 5th child. He had never had feelings for another man before; what made Lafayette different?

He couldn't talk to anyone but the man he eventually had to confront anyway. Pretending to go to work, Hercules hurried to Alexander's apartment to seek the whereabouts of Lafayette.

* * *

Alexander didn't ask questions, but instead directed Hercules to a modest residence in Harlem. When he knocked on the door, Lafayette immediately opened it, bloodshot eyes and a strained expression. Before Hercules could say anything, the Frenchman sighed.

"We need to talk, I know," Lafayette said tiredly. "Come on in."

The two men sat down on a sofa in the living room.

"Look, Lafayette, this is completely new to me—" Hercules started.

"Let me guess," Lafayette interrupted. "You've never kissed a man before and have a wife as well?"

Hercules raised his eyes. "You're married too?"

"With 2 children," Lafayette sighed again.

"I'm not going to say it was a mistake," Hercules continued. "Nor was it regrettable. But we need to be calculated about this."

"I agree," Lafayette said. "Though before we continue on with our conversation, may I do something?"

"Sure," Hercules said hesitantly.

Lafayette brought his lips against Hercules', drawing him into a passionate embrace. He pulled away immediately though, allowing both of them to regain their breaths.

"I'm sorry. I know I won't be able to do that again," Lafayette apologized.

Hercules shook his head in disagreement. "Don't apologize for that. But we both need to apologize to our families. Maybe not verbally, but we need to end this."

Lafayette nodded his head solemnly. "I know. We can't do this. It's not fair to either one of us, no matter how much I want to."

A silence much greater than it appeared enveloped them. This was the last time they could meet as near-lovers. Though they without a doubt wanted to continue down this dangerous road, it was unrealistic and could ruin both of their lives.

"I'm sorry we couldn't spend more time together," Lafayette attempted to breach the silence.

"So am I," Hercules said quietly. "So am I."

* * *

Lafayette and Hercules never become anything more than good friends again, for the sake of them both, but they do become frequent pen-pals, their letters flirtatious as ever, in order to still retain a fraction of what could have been.

 **A/N: There you go Lafayette shippers. But I couldn't actually make them get together. It would turn into another Reynold's Pamphlet. I do actually ship them though, I just can't realistically have them in the plot, unfortunately. I promise I'll write some fluff later though to make up for it.**


	10. Chapter 10

As the war stretched from months to years, Hercules continued his role as spy for the Patriots. One day, Elizabeth's uncle walked into his shop: Admiral Sanders, Royal British Navy.

"Ah, Hercules," he said, striding towards him. "Good to see you. How is my favorite niece, by the way?"

"She's doing fine," Hercules replied courteously. "What can I do to help you today?"

"Well, several of the seams in my waistcoat seem to have come undone," Admiral Sanders said, looking down at his jacket.

"That's an easy fix." Hercules sighed in relief. He had spent the previous night in another briefing and was too tired to do anything particularly difficult.

As he was taking out his sewing needles, Elizabeth's uncle began to strike up a conversation.

"This war has been going on far too long. Though things look bleak for The Continental Army," he laughed. It was fairly easy for Hercules to pretend that he was a Loyalist, as he was from Ireland. He nodded in agreement as he worked.

"In fact," Admiral Sanders added. "They're going to suffer a major blow tonight."

Hercules' heart skipped a beat in fear, but he feigned nonchalance for the sake of hearing more.

"Is that so?" Hercules started. He had mastered the technique of carefully prying information off his clients throughout the years.

"Yes," he replied. "We're going to capture their general tonight when he arrives in New York City."

Hercules looked up, admiration evident on his face. "That's a bold move, Admiral. And one that I hope will win the war for us?"

Admiral Sander's smiled. "Absolutely. There's sure to be celebration tomorrow after the capture."

Hercules stood up, handing Elizabeth's uncle his waistcoat. As the latter reached over to pull out his money bag, Hercules waved his hand.

"Free of charge. It was a simple modification, and besides, you're close family Admiral."

The older man smiled at him. "You're a good man Hercules."

Hercules extended his hand towards him. "The pleasure was all mine."

They shook hands and as soon as the door swung shut, Hercules grabbed his jacket and hurried to the rear exit of the store, determined to save George Washington's life and cause.

* * *

When Hercules arrived at The Sons of Liberty's headquarters, Samuel Adams immediately greeted him.

"Anything, Hercules?" He asked. It had been a remotely calm day so far.

Hercules began to speak in a calm yet hurried fashion. "The redcoats plan to ambush General Washington's carriage when he arrives in New York City tonight. It is essential that we stop them before they capture him and possibly kill him. Admiral Sanders of the British Royal Navy told me without his knowledge that I would pass on his information."

Samuel nodded, then gestured to a few men, who immediately sprinted off, gathering more men and weapons as they went.

"Thank you, Hercules. I will personally make sure that General Washington and the entire Continental Army know your name."

Hercules nodded respectfully, then slowly walked back to his shop, a feeling of accomplishment lifting his spirits in a way he hadn't felt since meeting Lafayette.

* * *

The next day, following a successful prevention of General Washington's capture, Admiral Sanders barged into Hercules' store.

"You," he snarled, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him up against a wall. Hercules was a muscular man, but in his rage the British officer seemed ready to move mountains. Besides, Hercules couldn't exactly harm him if he wanted to maintain is innocent façade.

"Traitor!" He continued. "The only people who I told about the British army's plans were in the army, except you. They wouldn't betray their own, except _you_ would, Mulligan."

He had closed his hands so tightly that Hercules couldn't even gasp a response. Just then, Elizabeth entered, delivering Hercules his lunch, as she did every day.

"Uncle!" She cried in horror. "What are you doing to my husband?" She dropped her wicker basket (apparently I really like these things) and ran forwards, moving him away from Hercules. He immediately began to cough, gasping on the floor while Elizabeth looked on in fear, still restraining her uncle.

"Elizabeth!" He said angrily. "Now is not the time for interruptions. This man who you call your husband is a traitor to his own people. He's probably in league with The Sons of Liberty. Yesterday I told him how we were planning on capturing George Washington, and guess who met us? The Continental Army!"

Though she was only 5'5, she planted her hands on her hips in an almost Mrs. Mulligan-like stance and stared down her uncle, her glare enough to make him take a few steps back.

"My husband is _not_ a traitor, and you would know that if you had bothered to ask me. Right after you came to visit him, I brought him his lunch, like I did today and do every day, and afterwards we went to have tea with the Bennett's. You can ask them. I was with him the rest of the afternoon and he never left the house. He _certainly_ didn't have time to inform a rebel organization of George Washington's imminent danger."

Hercules prayed that he bought the bluff. He had told his wife what he had done, and warned her that this could happen. She didn't say anything, merely acknowledged that she'd heard what he said, but he never expected her to have defended him so well. It's also what made him love her even more than he already did.

Admiral Sanders paused for a count of five, then turned and stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him.

Hercules turned towards his wife. "Do you think he bought it?"

Elizabeth nodded grimly. "He better have. You know, I'm his favorite niece for a reason, Hercules."

* * *

Samuel fulfilled his promise several weeks later. The war was drawing to a close, and because George Washington had avoided capture, he was able to lead his troops, along with Lafayette, to victory in Yorktown.

As Washington and his troops moved through their victory tour, Washington made a personal stop in the Mulligan home, where he thanked Hercules for saving his life, and also smiled at Elizabeth as Hercules recounted her heroics in defending her husband from suspicion of treachery.

When the General left, Hercules glanced hopefully to the crowd outside for a certain French commander, but was disappointed.

Elizabeth walked over and placed her head on his shoulder. "Who were you looking for?"

Hercules sighed. He hadn't told Elizabeth of his affair, if one could call it that, yet.

"Just an old friend."

"I'm sure he'll turn up eventually," she said optimistically.

Hercules smiled faintly. "Maybe."

* * *

As New York City celebrated their victory, Hercules visited Alexander Hamilton. When he arrived, his wife, whom he had married only the year before, opened the door.

"Eliza," he said pleasantly. "May I see Alexander?"

The normally vivacious woman smiled sadly at him. "He's just gotten terrible news. One of his best friends, John Laurens, died a few days ago. The war was already over by then."

Hercules stumbled backwards in shock. Though he had been much closer to Lafayette, John Laurens had still been a faithful friend, one that was especially close to Alexander.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Truly, I am. John was my friend as well. But may I still see Alexander? We can mourn him together."

"Of course." Eliza stepped back. "But be warned, you may not be able to reach out to him. Even I couldn't get him to open up." Eliza's voice cracked a little at her last sentence. Hercules placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure you of all people will be able to eventually. He just needs some time, that's all."

Eliza nodded. "Thank you, Hercules. You're a good friend to Alexander, as well as to myself."

Hercules tried to smile. That was the second time he had heard that phrase in as many weeks, yet he still felt that he didn't live up to the title.

* * *

When he knocked on Alexander's office door, he didn't hear a reply. He opened it anyway. Inside, Alexander sat hunched over his desk, staring at a letter in his hands. On closer inspection, it was a letter from John's father.

"Alexander, are you alright?" Hercules asked hesitantly.

He turned around. He had red-rimmed eyes and a mournful expression on his face. "No, not really."

Both men chuckled at his honesty.

"Look, I know what you're going through. John was my friend too. Though I may not have been as close to him as you were, he was still an important part of my life. We can't bring him back, but we can honor his legacy. But first, John wouldn't want us, his closest friends, to be submerged in misery. It's so easy to sink to that level, Alexander, but look around you. You have your whole life ahead of you. And we could start by fulfilling his greatest wish in the world: we could end slavery. Alexander, together, we could finish what he didn't have enough time to start. All I'm saying is that there are better ways to mourn John Laurens than giving up hope." Hercules didn't know if he could fully help him deal with his grief, but he could at least help him through part of it.

Alexander remained silent. Hercules waited for a few more minutes, but it became clear to him that Alexander didn't want to talk anymore. As he was leaving he could have sworn that he heard Alexander quietly whisper, "thank you."

 **A/N: I promise this isn't the last chapter guys. But seriously, Elizabeth's smack down gave me life. And did you see what I did there with Herc's monologue about legacy? Yeah? Yeah? Finally, I have an obsession with wicker baskets. Like whenever a character needs to carry something I give them a basket. I have a problem.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Okay I think this is the last chapter. I'll talk more at the end, but here it is:**

Alexander Hamilton, Hercules Mulligan, and many others founded The New York Manumission Society in 1785. Dedicated to the abolition of slaves, both men hoped that it would be enough to finish what John Laurens started. Sadly, this goal would not truly be fulfilled until nearly a hundred years after the organization's founding.

Hercules lived to the ripe age of 85. While he ended up outliving all of his friends during the war, he felt that he never did as much as they did following their freedom from Britain. Alexander and Burr became imperative in the nation's first government, and Lafayette aided his people in the French Revolution. Though they continued to keep up their correspondence, eventually the letters stopped, something which both of them accepted.

He continued to quietly work in his tailoring shop, sometimes catching glimpses of his important friends and giving them a free repair, but otherwise dedicating himself to his family.

When his time came, Elizabeth and all 8 of his children were at his side. He smiled at all of them sadly one last time before closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, he heard a loud chorus of cheers. He was sitting at a table in a tavern, young again. Around him were John and Alexander, Lafayette and Washington, his closest companions in life, except perhaps Washington.

He turned to Laurens. "It's been a long time, John. Alexander and I, we tried to make your dream come true. But it didn't happen. Not in our lifetimes, at least."

Laurens smiled gratefully anyway. He turned next to Alexander.

"When you died, Elizabeth and I looked after Eliza. She's fine, and ended up doing great things, including,"

He turned to Washington. "—building your monument."

Both men nodded and smiled, just as Laurens had.

Finally, he turned to Lafayette. "Good to see you, old friend."

The Frenchman smiled as well. "And you, Hercules."

He turned to look at all of them. "Where are we?"

Alexander smiled. "Waiting." For once, the man who was never satisfied was content and even at peace with himself.

Before Hercules could ask any further questions, John began to speak. "Remember how you said you weren't able to emancipate any slaves in your lifetime? Well they eventually did, about 10 years after your death. But they didn't just stop there. That's what we're waiting for."

Hercules felt that that still didn't answer his question, but suddenly, all was quiet in the bar. Almost in unison, everyone looked down. What used to be a worn wooden floor was a glass window to a completely different world down below. And beyond the clear pane was a noisy theater packed with people.

"What—" Hercules was finally able to ask.

"Shhh," everyone else replied.

So Hercules sat and watched as the cast in the play below them were announced. Alexander Hamilton. Aaron Burr. Eliza. Angelica. John Laurens. Lafayette. Hercules Mulligan?

He stared down at the stage so far below them as they beautifully sang and danced, depicting the life of Alexander and his friends as they navigated through the many difficult challenges that ultimately led them to the end of their lives.

When the show ended, he turned back to the table. They were all there. Elizabeth, Eliza, Burr and all of the other crucial aspects of their former lives.

"They remembered us," Hercules said in shock.

"No," Eliza said quietly, placing a loving hand on her husband's shoulder. "They did more than that." She paused. "They told our stories."

 **A/N: Aaaaaahhhhh! I'm practically sobbing right now. I contemplated doing the after death thing but ultimately didn't have anything else to write. Btw, Ham and Herc did found the NY Manumission Society. This is the end of Little Hercules Sewin' Some Pants, and I'm so grateful to you guys for reading this and putting up with my writing, which was pretty patchy at times. You guys are awesome, and I'll be sure to write more Hamilton stuff in the future. But for now, I'm going to be taking a break for a while with the Hamiltome and the Hamilton cast album.**


End file.
